


I Was Made for Sunny Days

by tinsnip



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassia, Established Relationship, Fluffy, M/M, Post-Canon, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/pseuds/tinsnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak spent a long time in the dark. Julian brought him light, and now Garak is pleasantly surprised to find that perhaps he was made for sunny days.<br/>A series of vignettes, set post-canon: a meeting at the train; a conversation, as evening falls; watching a loved one sleep; building a future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Made for Sunny Days

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Paramount does. Thank you for telling us their story.
> 
> Disclaimer the second: I do not own this song. The Weepies do. If you like this fic, please consider buying the mp3 (and perhaps even the album; it’s fantastic). The song may be listened to and purchased [on iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/be-my-thrill-deluxe-edition/id375799573), among other places.

 

_i went to the market_  
 _though it was threatening rain_  
 _i was late to the station_  
 _so i missed that train_  
 _and the streets filled with umbrellas_  
 _and we all look the same_  
 _but i'm the one who's waiting_  
 _‘til the sun comes out again_

            The sky was darkening, threatening rain.

            Arms loaded with bags and wrapped packages, Garak walked quickly through the central terminal, scanning the crowd. He kicked himself for taking so long at the market, but he had wanted to pick up something special, something fresh, to celebrate this day. Truly fresh produce wasn’t always easy to come by, these days, and there had been an unexpected variety of fruits and vegetables to choose from today. Perhaps the weather was finally improving; perhaps the fields were finally recovering from their days of bombardment and dark skies, and the plants would cover Cardassia’s farmland again. Mmm, and perhaps not. Garak held no unrealistic expectations. Things always had a way of getting worse; you didn’t even have to look for it, they’d do it on their own.

            And yet, and yet… today there had been fresh _lennet_ , green and leafy, with tiny fronds up each stem. Its sweet scent, a blend of mint and spice, had tickled his nose. He hadn’t seen fresh _lennet_ in years, and its replicated cousin paled in comparison to the refreshing taste of the real thing. It had been horribly expensive, of course, and he’d dithered for a few minutes, trying to decide whether it was worth it to spend such a large amount of their food budget on one item – and then he’d grabbed six stalks, and smiled as he paid. Its fragrance wafted up to him now as he walked; he held it close, and paused for a moment to more securely arrange his many bags as he thought ahead to the meal to come.

            _Kemprel_ , of course, with a glaze of _ss’ori_ for sweetness, and perhaps some hot _tojal_ with _yamok_ sauce as a side dish, and then the _lennet_ on its own, needing no enhancement. He indulged himself for a moment, pleased with the idea, imagining himself presenting dinner. _Here is Cardassia, fresh from the earth! I bought it for you! Taste and see – isn’t it sweet?_ And the smile that would greet him, and the delight of feeding a loved one something he so delighted in…

            And that was all well and good, except because he’d dithered, he was now late, and he’d missed the arrival of the train. The arrivals platform was clearing out rapidly; he scanned the faces, and saw no one familiar. All around him, families were reuniting with clamourous delight, and the din drowned out any voice he might have recognized. He frowned slightly, then more deeply as he felt a drop of rain. _And me with all these packages, and no umbrella, and what was I thinking when I left the house? Or was I thinking at all?_ Honestly, he hadn’t been – he’d been excited, like a child, not at all befitting his age or experience. _Foolish. And now I’m going to be wet and foolish._

            The rain picked up, fat drops splashing on the tiles of the terminal plaza. The happy noise of meetings became slightly less harmonious as people felt the rain hit, ran for cover, fumbled for umbrellas. Scaled grey faces frowned. Grey coats were tightly tied. Grey umbrellas sprang up around Garak, splashing rain as they opened to fullness, obscuring his view. He dripped, and was displeased. _And now I can’t see anything. How am I ever going to find him in this?_

            And then he heard his voice calling, _and how truly foolish of me to think I wouldn’t hear him, even in this din_ , and turned to see Julian striding towards him, arms open, smile wide. His light tan colouring stood out in the sea of grey faces, a focal point of colour in a monochrome mosaic. Garak’s answering smile came unbidden, just as wide, unguarded, and when Julian threw his arms around him – and his packages – he laughed quietly, in pure delight.

            “Ahh… Dear Doctor, I have missed you so.”

            “Elim… I’ve missed you too.”

            Garak allowed himself to rest there for a few peaceful seconds, then thought of the rain, and lifted his head from the young man’s shoulder to look for shelter. Julian, without raising his own head, lifted a hand and pulled Garak’s head back down.

            “Julian, we’re getting wet.”

            “I’ll survive. Just… let me hold you a moment longer.” And he lifted his head slightly, and met Garak’s lips with his own, warm and sweet. Rain was briefly unimportant.

            They shared a quiet moment, soon made amusing by Julian’s clumsy attempts to embrace Garak without causing him to drop any of the precious packages.

            “Garak, what on earth are you carrying? What is all this?”

            “Ah, you’ll have to wait and see, my dear. I’ve found a few special things at the market today. I am certain you’ll find them just as delightful as I do.”

            Julian’s smile turned just a little wistful. “Really? Mmm. I admit, I have missed good, solid Cardassian food. God, I never thought I’d say that.” He gently took a few of the packages from Garak, balancing the load. Garak straightened up, feeling much more stable, and they began to walk.

            “I am a bit surprised myself, Doctor. I remember you saying when you first arrived that if you had to eat one more ‘goddamned over-sauced dish,’ you were going to go on a hunger strike until the cuisine improved.”

            Julian blushed slightly. “Yes, well… Federation food isn’t usually so rich. I wasn’t used to it.”

            “And now?”

            A sidelong glance, beneath hooded lids. “And now… I’m used to it.”

            And that damned boyish smile, and the little laugh just for him, and although it was now drizzling rain and they were both getting awfully wet, for Garak, the sun was shining bright.

 

 

 

 

  
_found the book you gave me_  
 _when we were first in bloom_  
 _when i thought that you might save me_  
 _from the dark side of the moon_  
 _instead we both went walking_  
 _through the shadows and the gloom_  
 _and we never did stop talking_  
 _and you still light up the room_

            “God, it’s so good to be home.”

            Their house was quiet and warm. Evening was creeping over the city, and dark, trilling songs floated through the air as the myriad creatures of a Cardassian fall night came awake. The windows were open, and the night was fresh after the rain, cool by Cardassian standards, no doubt quite warm by Human ones. The humid air was still and sweet.

            Julian was sitting on his haunches and unpacking his travel case, humming a little to himself as he did so, quite atonally. Garak listened fondly as he re-shelved Julian’s books, each isolinear rod placed in its precisely marked spot in the rack. It felt good to slide each one home with a little click, putting back together what had been separated. Their amalgamated book collection was eclectic in the extreme, encompassing literature from the many worlds of the explored galaxy. Although their tastes still differed, they’d managed to meet in the middle on a few occasions; those rods had left small worn grooves in the wooden rack, from frequent removal and replacement.

            Hmm. One was still missing. Where was it…? “Doctor, have you given me all the books? I can’t find Meditations on a Crimson Shadow.”

            Julian’s song paused; his head lifted. “I thought I had… wait, let me see…”  He rummaged briefly in his travel bag, pulling out a scarf, a food wrapper, a solitary glove – “Wait, here it is – it was in the lining.” He tossed it to Garak, his smile flashing as the Cardassian deftly caught it out of the air.

            “Thank you, Doctor.” Garak slid the last rod into its slot with no small amount of satisfaction. _Home with me, all of you, just where you should be._ He ran his fingertips lightly over the rack and smiled. He heard Julian breathe a laugh, and knew the doctor was amused. Well, and so be it. He was happy, and content, and that probably did sit a little strangely on his features sometimes; happiness hadn’t been a frequent visitor there.

            “Why did you bring Meditations to Earth with you, Doctor? You can’t possibly expect me to believe that it still holds any secrets from you. You must have read it… what, five times now? Six?”

            Julian’s smile was slightly rueful. “Oh, at least that. And it grabs me every time. Something about the characterizations, I think – Gul Zimat is such a devious fellow, and yet so soft-hearted when it comes to his family. You can see the threads that lead to his undoing from the first chapter, and yet you still don’t want to see him fall.”

            “Ah, Gul Zimat. Tell me – what undoing? I always thought he came out rather well. He out-thinks half the Klingon empire by the end of the book.”

            “Yes, he does – and it costs him everything. He loses his family. He loses his world. He gives it all up – and he is not honoured for his sacrifice. A very empty victory, Garak, wouldn’t you say?”

            “I suppose it depends how you’d define ‘empty.’ He knows his family lives on. He knows his world is strong. Being ‘honoured’ for doing what any Cardassian would do strikes me as a bit self-indulgent. I imagine it would strike the Gul in much the same way.”

            Julian puffed a laugh. “You know, it’s not going to matter how long I live here. I’m never going to quite understand the Cardassian point of view.”

            “Well, Doctor, you’re enjoying our cuisine. As far as I’m concerned, you’re half-way there.” They shared a smile; the little slice of time seemed to stretch out as their eyes met, and there was no hurry, no hurry at all.

            Julian broke the gaze first. He looked for a few seconds at the strewn-about contents of his travel bag, then rose to his full height and moved towards Garak. He stood a foot away for a moment, smiling softly, then moved in and embraced the older man. Bending his neck slightly, he pressed his nose to the side of Garak’s head, burying it in the fall of black hair, then inhaled slightly, and tightened his arms about Garak for a few seconds, pulling him close. Garak, for his part, closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. He still couldn’t quite believe that this strangely lovely young man found him so fascinating, and he drank these moments in like water, stored away in his mind for later times of thirst. His grey hands crept up to Julian’s hips, and rested there, at peace.

            “Do you want to know why I brought Meditations with me to Earth, Elim?” Julian murmured, his voice almost harsh. He pressed his lips against Garak’s neck, briefly.

            “Ah – do enlighten me, Julian.” Garak’s eyes were still closed; he savoured the burst of warmth the Human’s lips left behind.

            “Because it reminds me of you. Because you gave it to me, back on DS9, and because it was the first book you gave me not to ‘enlighten’ me, but because you thought I would enjoy it. You thought of _me_ when you picked it out, not of a protégé you were trying to educate. When you gave it to me, I felt like you were really seeing me – who I was – not just some callow officer who needed to be taught how to behave in proper company.” Julian’s tone was light, but there was an undertone to the words that suggested deeper feelings, a small hurt that had never quite healed.

           “Oh, my dear…” Garak pulled back for a moment to look into Julian’s eyes, to analyze what he saw there. He didn’t like it much. “What is this? That was years ago, you know. You were so young– ”

           “Yes, yes, young.” Now Julian’s voice was dry, slightly amused. “I must have been embarrassing to watch. Like a puppy, doing tricks for attention and begging for a pat.”

           Garak wasn’t quite certain what a puppy was, but he thought he got the implication. “Julian. You were young, yes, and sometimes you were a bit… naïve, but I certainly never thought of you as a _pet._ ”

           The corners of Julian’s mouth lifted slightly, but his eyes still frowned. “Oh, Elim… let’s leave it. It’s silly. I should never have brought it up.”

           Garak’s trained instincts, finely honed on making people tell him things they’d really rather not, told him there was much more here than Julian was trying to pretend. The young man really was impossible sometimes. His skin might’ve been translucent, for all the good it was doing at hiding how he really felt.

           Garak lifted a hand from Julian’s hip, rested it against the light brown skin of his neck, nestled the fingers up under his jawline. Quietly, Julian dropped his head down against the Cardassian’s cool hand, allowing it to support some of his weight. Garak could feel Julian’s fatigue, heavy in his hand. _It’s a long way here from Earth. How tired he must be._

           Garak’s voice was low. “Do you know how you looked to me, back then? How you really looked?”

           Julian’s gaze was steady, even as the way he rested his head on Garak’s hand spoke of vulnerability, the desire to be told pleasant untruths. Garak thought briefly of gossamer fictions he could weave, how he could embroider the truth to flatter and please. How best to say it…

           “You were young. You were very young. You were… so new, and so… untarnished.” Julian’s face fell slightly, embarrassed; Garak carried on, his voice intense, doing his best to sweeten his words. “No, listen to me. Terok Nor was always an… interesting place, with much to see, but when one cannot leave, well… even the lines of Cardassian architecture can start to look ugly. Whether the place was overseen by Cardassia or by the Federation, nothing at all changed for me. My life was exactly the same from day to day, with no hope of anything different, and really, it was all starting to seem rather pointless. Only the repulsiveness of the idea of giving any satisfaction to my detractors back on Cardassia kept me from rather neatly… ending things.”

           He felt Julian’s body tense; with a finger, he pressed his lips shut before he could speak.

           “Hush. Listen. We’re just getting to the good part.” He smiled for a moment, gauging Julian’s attention; with pleasure, he noted that his audience was beginning to look less self-conscious, as he lost himself in the older man’s story. _I always could spin a tale…_

           “One day, I met a young Human doctor, new to the station, wide-eyed and eager for adventure. He was certainly lovely to look at, and his reaction to me was most… gratifying, but one new face on the station was not going to change anything for me. I was exiled to cold and darkness, Doctor; I was alone, with no hope of warmth or light beyond the pale pleasures of food, drink, or artificially-induced _joy_.” The last word was tinged with disgust; the memory of his implant still had the power to chill him.

           “And understand, Doctor, I was resigned to this. I believed I deserved it. I wanted to stay in the dark. At least there no one could see what I’d become. Useless, living without a purpose, like a parasite…”  He ran down as he realized he’d become a bit too wrapped up in his story; the emotion now infusing his voice was not entirely selected for effect. Julian’s eyes were wide, his brow furrowed. _Easy, Elim._ He calmed himself, relaxed his features and his posture, smiled slightly.

           “But I did promise you the good part, didn’t I? Here you are: what I found was that knowing that young doctor – knowing you – was the first truly rewarding thing I’d experienced in… oh, years. Since my exile, certainly. You were fresh and new, the first live and growing thing I’d seen since being sealed into that station. And you wanted to learn. And I found… I found I wanted to teach.

           “At first it was just for entertainment. You were useful to me sometimes, a conduit for passing information to the Federation that couldn’t be traced directly to me. And our lunches were enjoyable. It was a surprise to me, how good it felt to talk about Cardassia with someone. I’d thought… it would hurt more. But it didn’t. Sharing Cardassia with you made it feel like exile wasn’t as far removed from home as I’d thought.”

           Julian was smiling now, with both mouth and eyes. “I remember. I was fascinated. By Cardassia. By you. So exotic. I couldn’t figure out why you wanted to keep talking to me. So many times you seemed so exasperated.”

           “Oh, believe me, Doctor, I was. I still can’t quite believe you can’t appreciate The Never-Ending Sacrifice.” A gentle tease, there, and Julian’s eyes crinkled for a moment. _Ah, there we go._

           Garak seized the moment, and slid his hand from neck to shoulder-blade, guiding the Human to their nearby comfortable couch. He sat, and pulled Julian down to him; Julian tucked his legs up under himself and leaned over, resting his head against Garak’s collarbone. Garak’s eyes closed briefly. _How I have missed that weight._ He dropped a kiss on Julian’s tousled head, and felt the tension leaving the Human’s body, heard a quiet exhalation.

           “You were always there, Doctor, no matter what happened. You… you saved my life. Wherever I went, I seemed to find you. I remember, at the Dominion prison colony, when I had to spend so much time in that delightful little crawlspace… and I kept going back in, because it was for you.”

           Julian’s hand squeezed Garak’s thigh, and they were both quiet for a moment, remembering.

           “Your presence started to become less of a luxury for me, Doctor, for me who’d stripped life down to its bare bones. I told you stories, wove you mysteries to entrance you, and sometimes I even gave you the truth. Julian, you were… Suddenly, you were the light I saw by. I needed you. I had become inured to exile. It was no longer cold or dark, it just was, and then you came into my life, and I could feel again, and there was light. And it was _so good_ to be warm, and to see...”

           Sometimes it was easier to be honest when they couldn’t see your eyes.

           He felt Julian’s lips curve against the skin at his neckline. A brief kiss, pressed to his chest, in appreciation for how difficult it could be for Garak to season his lies with a dose of truth. “It feels like that was such a long time ago.”

           “Oh, Doctor, it was. I am almost amused to think back at how dark I thought my life was, back then. Things got a lot… darker, before they were done.”

           Julian nodded silently, perhaps remembering. Life on the station had gotten a lot more complicated in the next few years, and although the Dominion had ultimately been defeated and driven from the station, although Cardassia itself was now free of its dark influence, that period still cast a long shadow over their lives.

           Julian’s arm crept around Garak’s body, tightened its grip. “I’m so glad I had you then, Elim. In… whatever way I had you.”

           Garak breathed a laugh. “Indeed. How we fought! It is truly amazing that you had the fortitude to bear with me during those dark days, my dear doctor. I know I was… difficult.”

           “I wasn’t much better.”

           Silence, for a moment, and quiet breathing in the still night.

           “Well, my dear, that was then. This is now. And you should know… that is, I hope you know…” and a hesitation.

           Julian looked up at him, eyes hooded, smiling quietly. “Elim. You lit my life, too.”

           The room’s lights were low, the night creeping in, and yet Garak saw him so clearly, bright as day.

 

  
 _oh, the nights are longer_  
 _oh, you make me stronger_  
 _and the late light lingers on the grass_  
 _and the nights are dark but then they pass_  
 _they don't seem so deep_  
 _i'm still losing sleep but i don't mind_  
 _i don't mind_

            Night hadn’t been a friend to Garak for a long time.

            During the day, he’d always been able to find something to occupy his mind. Whether it was surveillance, or interrogation, or needlework, or bureaucratic negotiation, during the day, no nightmares claimed him, no memories tormented him. His focus was far too keen for that.

            But at night, ah, at night…

            When no one was there to talk to. When no superior gave him orders to be followed without consideration. When there wasn’t even any goddamned fabric to cut. And these days, when the offices were closed, and he was home, in what should be the safest place he knew… at night, the past found him.

            When he closed his eyes and tried to force his body to rest, to relax, that’s when they came. The faces, the voices from his past, sometimes horrifyingly twisted, sometimes – more horrifyingly – completely accurate. The record of the things he’d done, the people he’d broken, the devastation he’d seen, the deaths he’d ordered…

            Oh, all in the name of Cardassia, of course, and all completely necessary. He believed it still. The strength and beauty of Cardassia was all. The suffering of one minor cog in the wheel was nothing to the smooth functioning of the machine.

            And yet he could not sleep. Some nights he took a hated pill, so that he could function the next day, groggy but alive. Some nights he fought, lying awake, trying to force himself to sleep – a losing battle if ever there was one. And some nights he gave in, and shameful tears took him, sometimes so strong that he felt he’d drown in their currents. Paradoxically, the nights he gave in were often the nights he slept best. _Catharsis is a powerful drug. But it’s so dangerously addictive…_

            Losing that battle was not a habit he could afford. That way lay self-destruction. Every step down that road would be easier than the one before, until one day he would quite logically convince himself that the best way of stopping the voices would be to take all the pills at once, and cry himself to a truly peaceful sleep.

            That wasn’t an option now, any more than it had ever been. Once he’d refused to give in purely from spite, purely because he knew that ending himself was exactly what they wanted him to do. His superiors, those who’d relied on him, who’d ordered him to do the things that now haunted him – they’d trusted him, and he’d betrayed them, and their disappointment and disgust had gnawed at him. He had hated exile, but had not been able to disagree with the verdict – and yet, part of him had rankled, had shouted _But I did it all for you! Have you no mercy?_

            A foolish question. Of course they didn’t. Mercy was not something a state could offer. Mercy was the prerogative of a single individual, and there were no individuals on Cardassia, only many small parts to a greater whole.

            And these days, his exile ended, himself returned to where he’d so wanted to be, he could not take that final option because he was needed. His voice now gave the commands, ordered the changes, requested the supplies, whispered and wheedled and shouted as needed, and now he greased the wheels that kept the machine functioning, for the greater glory of Cardassia. Oh, not only him; he was still only one part. But he did not delude himself that he was unimportant. He was needed, and therefore he did not have the luxury to decide his own destiny. That was an indulgence only afforded to those whom nobody needed. It was almost funny. _I’ve gone from being supremely unwanted to being desperately required. And either way, I’m trapped._

 

            At least, that’s how it had been.

 

            And then he’d come, that lovely man, and now… things were changing. In their small home, in their shared bed, Garak lay beside Julian and gazed at him in the darkness. A streetlight shone through the window, dimmed by the gauzy curtain. Its luminance painted Julian’s sleeping features with a soft outline. Garak looked, and drank him in.

            Tousled black curls. Those curiously endearing bits of fur instead of proper ridges. Deeply hooded eyes, fringed with long lashes. A nose almost Cardassian in its impudence. Full lips, now slightly parted in sleep. A chin made to be cupped in a tender hand, to be kissed and lightly bitten, seeming so naked without scales. Julian’s beauty was almost unnerving, sometimes. He looked like an idealized statue, come to life, something out of abstract Cardassian art, where scales blended with smooth skin without true definition. His beauty moved through scaly grey Cardassia like a breeze drifting through the leaves of a forest, touching so lightly, surely leaving few unmoved. _So lovely. Why don’t they all stare?_

            _Well, perhaps spending that much time away from Cardassia has left me more… amenable to unusual beauty than the typical Cardassian._

            Whatever the truth, it didn’t matter. The lovely prize was here, in his bed – their bed, wrapped in soft sheets, his hands lightly clutching them close to his collarbone. Garak could just see the outline of his shoulders, the hollow of his neck, deliciously tempting. _So vulnerable. My own._

            Sleep still wasn’t easy. It probably never would be. To fully relax, to drift off… it was a concept Garak had forgotten long ago. Even Julian’s presence in his bed did not fully assuage the sharp-toothed little creature in his subconscious that nibbled at him and worried him so that he could never quite let go…

            But now, when sleep didn't come, Garak had other, more pleasant memories to review. His life, since Julian had first arrived on Cardassia, had gone from something spare and plain to something positively sybaritic in comparison. _And only someone whose life has been a desert can appreciate how delightful a simple glass of water can be._ Sometimes it was the simple things that meant the most.

            Tonight, sleep eluded him once again. He watched his love resting, his deep breathing sighing softly through the room, and cast back through his memory to a moment a month ago, before Julian had left for Earth, a stolen afternoon…

           

           They’d taken a whole afternoon off together – an unheard-of luxury on post-war Cardassia, where there was so much to be done, where no task was ever truly complete. Garak had put together a picnic lunch, and they’d taken the train over to Gren Torek Park to view the _k’selses_ in bloom, a sight that Garak had assured Julian was worth the trip.

           It had been such a lovely day, warm even by Cardassian standards, which meant Julian was very lightly dressed indeed. Garak hadn’t been able to help stealing glances at him, so beautiful, and certainly not quite aware of it, at least not the way Garak was – flashes of his collarbone peeking out from beneath the soft beige tunic he wore; his soft, flowing pants rippling flatteringly around his calves when the breeze picked up; and his bare toes, so charming in his light sandals. Garak had felt almost lumbering next to Julian’s pliant beauty – but then Julian had leaned over, and whispered quietly in his ear that his scarlet tunic suited him well, and framed his neckline, and did he realize how attractive he was? Garak’s scales had flushed slightly charcoal; Julian had just smiled.

           They’d kept up a light, desultory chatter on the train over, their hands clasped together, enjoying this time where no one else’s needs took precedence over their own. When they had arrived at the park, they’d taken their time, strolling the paths, listening to the singing of happy insects on a summer day, quietly amused at the other couples they saw, lost in each other and the gaudy display of the flowers. The _k’selses_ had indeed been all that Garak had promised, their scarlet hearts open wide, bobbing in the breeze, their perfume almost intoxicating. He’d seen Julian’s nostrils flare, and seen his eyes slide shut as he took in the layers of scent. He had wondered idly what that genetically enhanced nervous system could sense that his own could not, and then that thought had fled as Julian had opened those marvelous eyes again, and met his own gaze with delight.

           As the day had faded on, they’d found themselves a quieter part of the park, and had plunked themselves down without ceremony on the soft grass. They’d eaten berries and small rounds of cheese, and drunk a lightly sweetened kanar, and stolen kisses as they lay beside each other, drowsy with food and kanar and love. The light had seemed to slide over them, the shadows of trees lengthening as they lay there, until reluctantly they had decided to wend their way home.

           That night, they had made love twice, the first time heated, as soon as they’d closed their door behind them; the second time slower, savouring each kiss, memorizing each other’s bodies as they prepared for their time apart…

 

            Garak’s reverie broke into fragments as Julian’s breath stuttered for a moment, the slow regular respirations of sleep giving way to a small gasp, a murmur. Some dream had lifted him from sleep. His heavy-lidded eyes opened slightly, gazing up at the ceiling. Almost ashamed to be caught staring, Garak held his own breath.

            Julian’s right hand loosened its grip on the sheets and groped across the bed, searching, finding. His long fingers crept their way across Garak’s torso, catching slightly on the heavier scales, sliding smoothly across the smaller flat ones. They rested at his sternum, one finger reaching up to trace his chest ridge, and Julian’s hand pressed down for a moment, as if he was ensuring that Garak stayed exactly where he was planted.

            Garak couldn’t help himself. He caught that lovely hand in his own, and brought it to his lips, his eyes closing as he inhaled Julian’s slightly salty scent.

            When he opened his eyes again, Julian was looking at him, eyes open now but still sleep-blurred.

            “Can’t sleep, Elim?”

            Garak wanted to demur, but honestly, it was rather nice to have the doctor awake with him now, and it was awfully late at night for wordplay. He settled on, “I don’t mind.”

            “… what?”

            “I’m watching you.”

            A sleepy smile now, and eyes half-lidded. “Don’t just watch. Come here.”

            And Julian turned on to his side, his hands reaching out to pull his lover closer, one leg hooking over Garak’s as he pressed those full lips to the Cardassian’s own.

            Losing oneself in memories was all very well, Garak considered as he embraced his young love, but losing oneself in the real thing was magnitudes better. _So sweet… so eager…_

            He drowned himself in his lover’s body – _so much better than tears -_ and when their bodies stilled, he slept soundly, and woke to dawning sunlight through the window, brightening their room.

 

  
 _i got you a winter jacket_  
 _that our baby wears around_  
 _and we chase him through the spring time_  
 _and the sleeves drag on the ground_  
 _and every hour we're working_  
 _and work and play are bound_  
 _and every day is sunday_  
 _cause the sun comes dancing down_

            They’d talked about it all winter, as the trees shed their leaves, and the chilled Cardassian people buttoned their coats tighter and braced themselves against the wind and rain. They’d planned, and wondered, and argued, and worried, and kept coming around to the same thing.

            Item:  Garak was here to stay.

            Item:  Where Garak was, Julian was. Therefore, Julian was also here to stay.

            Item:  They were happy, so happy, and there were so many people on Cardassia who were so unhappy.

            Item:  They had more home than they needed, with a bedroom (once meant for Julian) that remained resolutely empty.

            Item:  Garak’s work at the bureaucratic office kept him very aware of how terribly needy most of Cardassia still was, and what an idiosyncrasy their own happy home was among the many lonely survivors of Cardassia’s little war.

            Item:  Julian’s employment as staff physician at the local Children’s Centre (such a charming euphemism for orphanage!) brought him into close contact every day with small, damaged little Cardassians, who once would have had no status, and now had no status that could be ascertained.

            Item:  Julian’s heart was very, very soft.

           

            Cardassians valued family above all else, but a strange corollary to this was that once one had no family, one was without value. Orphaned children were to be pitied, but nothing more; there was no obligation to feed or clothe them, and while they were of course not _abandoned_ , their upbringing was left to the State, who made sure they didn’t starve, and didn’t freeze, and did absolutely nothing else for them.

            And now, when it sometimes seemed there were more orphans than families, what was Cardassia to do? Now that so many families had been so badly damaged, the traditional family was starting to change, subtly. It would take time, but already the adaptations were visible: the melding of different families, taking in children, a father here, a mother there, parents in twos and threes, sometimes with the only commonalities being love and loneliness.

            And surely, given this situation, given the tragedies happening on Cardassia every day, given the oddness of the entire global situation, it wouldn’t be that unusual for two people – even a couple that wasn’t completely Cardassian – to take in a small child, who otherwise would have nothing to look forward to but three tasteless meals a day, a basic education, and a life where any morsel of love had to be fought for, instead of freely given as it should have been?

            _Surely, Garak, you have to accept that this is possible?_ Julian had shouted, his brows lowered, radiating frustration.

            And Garak, accustomed as he’d become to opening up, to letting Julian in ( _weak, so weak, what am I becoming?_ ), had somehow agreed to open their home to someone who needed refuge even more desperately than Garak had, once upon a time.

 

            And now…

 

            “Doctor? Doctor, where are you?”

            “I’m out here!”

            “You’re outside? Doctor, _what_ are you doing outside without your coat? It’s freezing!”

            “Garak, it’s hardly freezing. It’s fifteen degrees Celsius. On Earth, this would be positively balmy for early spring.”

            “Well, we aren’t _on_ Earth, Doctor, and I will be quite put out if you catch something unpleasant because you aren’t taking the proper precautions against the weather.”

            “Garak, you _know_ that one doesn’t catch cold from being cold – ”

            “Don’t argue with me. Where is your coat? I’ll fetch it.”

            “Um.”

            “Oh, _don’t_ tell me Essim’s got it again. Doctor, that coat is Breen corded silk. It’s double-lined. I spent weeks on it. And you’re letting the two-year-old wear it.”

            “I know. It’s a lovely coat, Garak. That’s why Essim loves it so.”

            “Don’t try to flatter me! When he wears it, the sleeves drag on the ground!”

            “Yes, they do.”

            “Where is he?”

            “Over there.”

            A brief silence, as they watched the small dark head, bowed over some matter of interest on the ground.

            “… He is very sweet in it, isn’t he.”

            “Yes, he is.”

            “… Then I shall make him one of his own, and he can wear it wherever and however he likes. But for now, Doctor, for this jacket, I would prefer that he not get mud all over the cuffs.”

            A smile, a shake of the head. “You’re a positive tyrant, Garak. All right, come on; we’ll grab him before he makes too much of a mess.”

            And Julian’s in motion before Garak can join him, leaping down the steps, chasing after the small boy whose head snaps up when he hears Julian call. The little one laughs, and breaks into a run, and they’re both off now, swift across the lawn, which is bright with new growth.

            Garak watches for a moment, enjoying the sight of his two loves smiling in the grey spring light, diffuse through heavy cloud. Julian is so happy now, with Essim’s arrival, and Essim’s recalcitrance can’t help but melt in the light of Julian’s sun. Much like Garak’s had, all those years ago. The two of them, running together, seem almost to leave a trail of luminance behind them.

            A cool breeze blows past, and Garak shivers for a moment, wraps his arms around himself and wishes for his own coat. _You may like this weather, Doctor, but Cardassians are made for sunny days._

            And Julian turns, and laughs up at him, eyes shining, their child in his arms, and Garak is suddenly completely warm and content, the chill forgotten. _And yet… it seems that wherever I walk, these days, I walk in sunshine. Perhaps I was simply made for you._

 

 

 

 

 

_i was made for sunny days_  
 _i made do with grey_  
 _but i didn't stay_  
 _i was made for sunny days_  
 _and i was made for you_

            _\--the weepies_

 


End file.
